Page 3 of Live To Tell

“Or tell me where it's located?”

She narrows her eyes as I give in to temptation and casually throw a spell her way. “Violet Blackwood. Mind reading is illegal and ill advised against your headmistress. Especially if you'd like to remain at Thornwood, which you now apparently do.”

“Fine. I'll find the answer elsewhere.” I straighten my blazer sleeves.

“Do not approach Sienna and use your 'skills' on her either,” warns Mrs. Lorcan.

“I have no intention of doing such.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Besides, I'm lacking in the social skills I'd need to use.”

“That isn't the skill I mean.”

“I know.”

More silence. No answers. Stalemate. I turn to leave.

Correct. I don't have social skills or any level of acceptance amongst my peers, but I know a girl who does.

Chapter 2

VIOLET

I return to my room, and change into the academy uniform, ready to start as I mean to go along now—a fully participating member of the student body. I've barely used the uniform until today, and I slide my fingers between the stiff shirt’s choking collar and my neck. Rowan's refusal to button his makes more sense now—he’s seeking comfort rather than attempting non-conformity. Grimacing, I slip on the yellow-striped blazer and avert my eyes from the mirror.

How unusual that I’m the one preparing for class, when usually Holly’s readying herself with unnecessarily bright excitement while I plan how to not go to lessons. She wasn’t in bed this morning before I left to see Mrs. Lorcan. As Holly never returned to our room, she must've attended the impromptu party that replaced the Spring Ball. The loud one inside Darwin House that interfered with my concentration while I figured out events of the night.

If Holly returned before I left to visit Mrs. Lorcan in order to find my tiara, I would’ve endured pointed comments about Rowan's presence in my bed. Annoyingly, the fully clothed guy fell asleep midway through an important conversation about tiaras. Rowan’s help in combing through the night's events would've been more useful than his snoring. Apparently sitting outside the infirmary with me until 4AM sapped all Rowan’s energy, although I suspect the beer that Leif brought him didn’t aid in his remaining awake.

Rowan looks quite different when he sleeps, his face softer and the usual pinch to his brow absent. The unconscious guy had a gentler, calmer aura, the tension he carries lost somewhere else. Thus, I left Rowan alone to sleep—I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate me climbing into bed and disturbing him.

I stayed awake—less sleep requirement is a boon for a detective—and spent a frustrating time on my laptop looking for any connections between supes, the town, academy, and a 'Madison'. Nothing.

When I headed to meet Mrs. Lorcan, I left the sleeping Rowan a note instructing him to gather the others and meet before class starts. We must discuss our next move. He'll grumble about that—Rowan dislikes my notes and once teased that I need more practice at writing love letters. Then he smirked just as I opened my mouth to retort. Of course.

My meeting with Mrs. Lorcan wasted time. Brushing my hair hard in frustration, I again frown at where I've scrawled new names and timelines on my notepad because none seem to link. A knock distracts me. Didn't I tell Rowan we'd meet in the library as usual?

I open the door and tip my head back in order to meet Leif's eyes, that’re partly hidden beneath his curls as usual. Dressed in uniform, he's paler this morning, eyes rimmed with shadows—possibly because his is one of the voices I heard late into the night.

Leif doesn't speak, and my gaze drops to the object in his hands. “What's that?”

His lips purse. “Flowers. Obviously.”

Crinkling silver paper wraps around the small purple flowers in the bouquet, and I'm au fait enough with courtship rituals to know what this is. I glance over my shoulder to the blood-stained toy dog, which I placed prominently on my nightstand in an attempt to atone for my less than grateful response to the gift. I won’t make that mistake again.

“I presume these are for me and not Holly.” I step back and open the door wider for Leif to join me in the room.

“Why would I buy Holly flowers?” Leif's grip crushes the paper.

“Is there a reason for your gesture?”

“Will you just take them?” he asks, the same irritation around him as the 'dog incident' as he holds the flowers out.

“Apologies. I'm merely taken aback as you've never brought me flowers before. Thank you, Leif.”

He shrugs, a rather odd reaction considering his tense demeanor.

“The ritual suggests these are either a token of your affection or an apology for something.” I take the gift. “Chase bought Holly an ostentatiously large bouquet last week after one of their many disagreements. I could barely breathe over the stench for days. We haven't argued, so this is an affectionate gift?”

Leif sighs. “You always have to analyze everything. I wanted to buy you flowers and they're also kind of a sorry.”

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